Screaming, that’s what I remember the most. I was screaming my head off. Headbursting and seething with anger because of the sabotage.

I was in the finals of a cooking competition and the heat was on. Literally. Fire roaring, oil spitting, the vegetables crackling and sizzling. For one second I turned my back to the fridge and there he was. My brother with a fire extinguisher. My bullying, I-will-always-be-better-than-you, ass of a brother ruined everything. As always.

So, obviously, this was a dream. A nightmare. One of the annoying symptoms of PTSS I still get to deal with. God, the anger! How it consumes your mind and soul. Well, at least I was angry this many years later. I used to so be hurt to the bone, paralyzed. I don’t know. Is there a description for that feeling? It’s so many things and yet so empty.

Anyway. Crumble woke me. Purring in my ear. A headbut on my shoulder. A soft meow to let me know I was safe. Or maybe that it was time for a midnight snack. Probably the latter.

As I go down the stairs, he dances around my feet. He will break my neck, someday.

It’s good to be awake., to get my mind off things. Some mindless scrolling as I sit on the couch does wonders for my heartrate. The crunching in the kitchen stops. He carresses my legs as he walks by. Why does he always have to sniffle my toes? It makes my smile, my shoulders drop as I relax.

A belly flop, paws in the air and eyes slowly blinking. I love you too. So much.

I walk up the stairs, he rushes past me, jumps on the bed and curls up before I even reach the bed.

The last bit of anger seeps away as he snuggles up against my legs.